Platform No. 2

It is 9 am,
The day is cloudy,
And the rain falls monotonously,
I am anxiously waiting for the train to arrive,
At platform No.2,
North Wembley station.

A blonde girl in her early twenties appears on the platform,
She stands for a while, then sits next to me,
As if tired from a long journey and needs some rest,
Or perhaps,
Preparing for a long journey?
I don’t know,
I will never know.

“The train is delayed due to signals failure”
Announcement is made,
No further explanation is made,
Everybody seems worried!
In a moment of boredom,
I look up at some of the birds nests on the roof,
That I do every morning,
To know if they are in their nests,
Or out for the day?
I see them in their nests,
They fear to fly.
As if they have heard,
The weather forecast this morning,

The office ring me up,
I prefer not to answer,
I have no excuse,
I am already late....
I anxiously look at my wrist watch,
The watch has stopped working,
The time is frozen- it seems,
I am thinking,
If everything happening is unreal,
If so do we exist?
Or just moving objects?
The images that I see,
The worried faces, the sky, the rain and this time,
Is everything seems a continuity of the past or previous act?
I am frozen....
In a frozen present.

In the dimness of fear,
Staring up at her,
I examine the dress she is wearing,
Long white skirt,
A black leather jacket,
I see some flowers in her hands,
She looks like a princess,
Princess......
Or a doll or piece of an artist,
Leonardo De Vinci?

But why?
Why do I feel a pain in her eyes?
Perhaps I am wrong,
I wish, I am wrong.
She starts talking to someone over the phone,
Perhaps her boyfriend?
In a voice, which only she can hear!
Deep and down!
Sweet and soothing!
The phone call end up soon,
She Smiles for no reason,
I ignore her smile,
She acknowledges my silence.

The platform number 2 is crowded with people,
Curious people,
Deeply interested,
Of what is happening around,
Or about to happen,
They talking over the phones, reading the daily newspapers or books,
But...
They looking at us,
Probably thinking,
As if the blonde girl is my girlfriend!
Unhappy, sad or ...

They are ready to invent,
A story,
Or their share of the story?
The clouds suddenly disperse,
A blue space appears in the clouded sky,
The rain stops.
A rainbow appears too,
I feel like touching the rainbow with my fingers,
With whom?
I am thinking,
Thinking deep like a Derwesh,
Of how to travel the journey of thousand miles,
And thousand years
To reach up that rainbow,
And kiss the colours of the rainbow!
Ah, poor me!
Poor wishes!

Her mobile phone ring up again,
She starts talking in a low voice,
Down and hardly clear,
She puts her phone back into her purse,
She starts crying,
The train arrives,
All those around us are moving up towards the train now,
Puzzled,
Anxious,
Concerned or disturbed,
Believing wrongly,
That I am at the heart of the story....
At platform No.2.


( Farid Gul, London, April 16, 2009)